


What I thought and what happened to the plot

by Esbe



Series: Put me Together verse [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2019-01-25 01:18:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12519696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esbe/pseuds/Esbe
Summary: Solavengroasked me if I plotted everything before I wrote/started publishing it and heres the answer. I do but I may or may not follow it cos -  ahem muse. When you get exhausted of my ramblings head over to read her steamy Jooster.So while you cry over that insipid conclusion that my muse ended up with because I vetoed all the dramatic ones she suggested feel free to substitute one of the conclusions in here. Interestingly I wrote those much earlier. It was almost like first three chapters and then last chapter! Pure melodrama of course. Maybe I should've just stopped writing back then and put these as stand alone ;-)the fic itself is missing an epilogue but that shall be edited and revoked a dozen times. These are totally raw.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry but before I post my so called alternate endings (They were all too OOC in my opinion.) you need to see the drama unfolding.

About the [prologue ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/13063858)I wrote: 

_We could have this as a short teaser opening or as the prompt in the summary. Lets see. Either ways the fic actually starts in the next chapter._

Among the few things I followed from my original think

 

In the actual [first and second chapters which are actually numbered 2 and 3](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/13063894) I told Gem:

_So this is where Mycroft and John first come together in bed. Im laying down the background here so please critique as cruelly as possible. We will end up living with the consequences of this chapter till the fic ends._

And then we came to the smut part specifically Mycroft's reaction to John and I cried for help:

_Ok so this is where I falter. Ive tried it twice now and it just doesn’t work._

_Basically. John takes over the kiss and then they end up in bed. Referring to my older notes this is what I outlined and I think it stays. So Im copying it here for reference- The act of having someone in bed/having a physical connect triggers something in John and he becomes an aggressive partner in bed. Not hurting Mycroft but taking the lead and assaulting and overwhelming his senses almost as if he needs to know he can make this man respond to plain simple normal John Watson._

_Mycroft on his part is very experienced (I never could digest a virgin or less experienced Mycroft. I kinda see him as a James Bond who now does a desk job. But you decide just how experienced he is and we will take it from there). Mycroft senses the need in John and allows him to take the lead once they are in bed. However, even to himself he doesn't acknowledge that yes, he was overwhelmed (and perhaps hooked). Mycroft then sleeps over, but ends up leaving very early in the morning without waking up John due to a work related emergency. Now, keep in mind that the 'after' part of the sex is in the previous chapter._

_I basically see that they have sex, seeing Mycroft lose his mask in his bed, John finally settles down enough to sleep, Mycroft cant cos he isn’t sure this will ever happen again. So he is up ruminating and doing the whole Made to measure thingie in prev chapter. We will do the part of the morning after in the next chapter please_.

See how muddled I was. No clue how she got what I was trying to say. 

 

[Chapter four](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/13158085) when Mycroft wakes up after their first time together: 

_Mycroft sleeps over, but ends up leaving very early in the morning without waking up John due to a work related emergency. John is not surprised when he wakes up. He hardly expects Mycroft Holmes to want any more than a one night stand with him (cue- John's feelings of inadequacy where the Holmes brothers are concerned). But Mycroft returns that evening. He is very sure by now that he is going to take whatever he can in Sherlock's absence, for as long as John tolerates him (Mycroft's turn to be feeling inadequate). So he gets straight to the point per se. (I started writing it as if it’s rather close to the funeral hence John's way of doing things, but we will adapt if we go another way), Either ways this is where it actually reconnects with Chapter 2 where Mycroft is lying in bed with John thinking that they are perfect together._

_Plot- the morning after John recalls the evening and is aghast at his behaviour. He fears that he will lose Mycroft’s friendship. He also realises that he forgot Sherlock for the entire evening and feels guilty._ _He thinks that he has somehow betrayed two friends now. Sherlock’s memory by forgetting about him and Mycroft by using him._

_Reg A: This name isn’t concretised yet. I simply wanted a non western name but didn’t want to confuse the readers. So A it is.. Recall what I said about their friendship? I’m beginning to unveil it a bit here. I also plan to give her a bit of family life in the fic._

_In my head canon Ive always thought that Mycroft has always recognised his own Holmesian nature from a very young age. He did nothing downright illegal or truly harmful like Sherlock but he has always been tempted to do things that were illicit. So he bottled his passion and drew the icy mask. So much so that it has become a part of his subconscious and now he almost never can show passion._

So I wrote Anthea as A for the entire thing. Also I wrote out a [short sketch where Mycroft has an addictive personality](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5417294). I thought writing all those here would be too much. You may want to read those if you want a clearer picture of my head canon. But really not necessary.

 

[Chapter 5](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/13216972): Gem asked me real important questions like how experienced MH is and is he circumcised. See how having someone smart like her helps?

_Premise: Ok so like I said Mycroft on his part is not inexperienced (I never could digest a virgin or less experienced Mycroft. I like him worldly wise. But lets decide that point later). Mycroft senses the need in John and allows him to take the lead once they are in bed. However, even to himself he doesn't acknowledge that yes, he was overwhelmed (and perhaps hooked). Mycroft then sleeps over, but ends up leaving very early in the morning without waking up John due to a work related emergency. John is not surprised when he wakes up. He hardly expects Mycroft Holmes to want any more than a one night stand with him (cue- John's feelings of inadequacy where the Holmes brothers are concerned). But Mycroft returns that evening. He is very sure by now that he is going to take whatever he can in Sherlock's absence, for as long as John tolerates him (Mycroft's turn to be feeling inadequate). So he gets straight to the point per se. (I started writing it as if it’s rather close to the funeral hence John's way off doing things, but we will adapt if we go another way) Read on._

And then smut happened and I faltered again:

_THIS IS WHERE I NEED HELP: Once again the actual act escapes me so I’m slipping off and requesting your help. Their next encounter is going to be for ‘work’. They need to be comfortable around each other for that but a little off kilter in their personal interactions. Esp. John, who will take a little while to figure it out. You may build the scene of them together any which way so long as it culminates in that. If you need to please scrap parts of this chapter. In the next chapter: During their meeting for work, I want to explain their established friendship built on shared sympathy and loyalty as well as mutual respect. Show how they got to the point in Chapter 3._

So Gem once again rode to the rescue in spite of struggling with other stuff. She is a star. She wrote back to me with the following comment:

_I hope this is good enough? I apologise for the long wait. I was struggling really badly with writer’s block for this. I just could not get anything down. I lost count on the amount of times I opened the document only to stare at it blankly! If there are any spelling mistakes or things you want to change, then do so! (I am currently up at 12:25am without having slept at all the last night. So I am very tired, so there may be errors) I agree with the slow build to penetrative sex. It makes sense to me that it would take time. Penetrative sex is a massive big thing. At the moment they are merely “using” one another, and so frotting and blowjobs and whatever else, suits their arrangement just fine. But penetration is a big step. With your question about Mycroft leaving during the night or post-cuddle, I think that he could leave whenever, because…at the moment he sees no reason to stay. He thinks John is using him and that he’s using and enjoying John for as long as he can, so he thinks it’s just a physical thing, and so why would he stay? He can either pretend there is something that needs his attention or just…go. Either way works._

 

[Chapter 6](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/18436795): This is when Parivash007 helped me with the next few chapters that i'd written. I still have no clue how to work with a beta in spite of desperately needing one so sadly i couldn't use her excellent services for the entire fic. Hope she is happily writing a nice script somewhere in RL.

_Premise: Next I want an encounter for ‘work’. While Lestrade is out of the woods, some vestiges of doubt still linger on about Sherlock and they continue clearing those. Also I think now would be a good time to introduce the first hint of danger to them. Its someone who is actually aiming at Mycroft and who either suspects that Sherlock may be alive or wants others to believe it simply to complicate Mycroft’s life. During their meeting for work, I want to explain their established friendship built on shared sympathy and loyalty as well as mutual respect. Show how they got to the point in Chapter 3._

This obviously didn't go according to plan on the danger bit but the last bit did happen. A 50% hit rate aint so bad. And yeah I did research John's tea taking habits on the series! Thanks to the brilliant [ enigmaticpenguinofdeath](http://enigmaticpenguinofdeath.tumblr.com/post/26358790781/a-guide-to-writing-sherlockian-tea-habits) I actually found deets.

 

[Chapter 7](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/22094564): was my pitiful attempt at a PWP. But I think it gave us a bit of a glimpse of how things have progressed with them and yet how both are still denying they are just all about the sex. But I had begun to be scared that the fic was rambling a bit. Also John was simply taking what was being dished and I was so not ok with it. But the thing was writing itself a certain way and I had to go with the flow. I think I took a long hiatus sometime here and it did falter a bit and I had to re-write quite a lot of the next few chapters. It was scary. If I hadn't been busy finishing my other fic I might have been much worse off.

 

[Chapters 8](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/22115540) [and 9](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/22115594) [and 10](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/22115684): I hope I built their awkwardness in these. Each is waiting for a sign from the other. Also wanted to speak about the others in their life. It's rather easy to arrogantly forget that my protagonists aren't the only ones facing all this.

I still am not sure if i should have put Chapter 11 in the fic or put it elsewhere as a one-shot.


	2. Chapter 2

Which brings us to [Chapter 12](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/22296314) to 15: oooh the plotting that went into this one and 13. Like so so much. But I think overall I followed the plot for this. (shocking) This level of detail rarely happens though. But what was good was that I could lift some of this as is for the chapter itself.  but initially this was supposed to have been like chapter 5 :D (i know). Parivash007 gave it a look and I recall asking Gem ridiculous stuff like would MH call it intel or intelligence.

_Premise: I think the next step in their relationship would be when Mycroft decides to invite John home. (I haven’t figured out what happens between the two phases yet). He arranges for a car to pick him up [without so much as a by-your-leave, so basically still being Mycroft almighty Homes] but at the last minute he is delayed and unable to contact John again. Anthea realises this. So she simply ensures that the pick-up goes ahead as scheduled. (She doesn’t necessarily meddle but does nudge things along whenever possible). Mycroft at home by himself is Martha-Stewart and Julia Child and Nigella Lawson rolled into one according to me. E.g. whenever they eat together helps do the dishes, clean the table etc. or when they wake up together (so far Mycrofts never overslept) then he makes the bed. Or sometimes brings in the groceries (never delivered by his staff, Mycroft wants the sanctity of his time with John to remain). So he had a full sophisticated dinner planned to entice and impress John. Not romantic. That will hopefully be for some other time (or perhaps never except in his own mind and heart), but seductive yes. Like I said earlier, the plan goes down the drain due to the delay._

And do you know how i started writing this:

_Matters stood as they were till one day a black car was idling on the kerb as john left the surgery. He simply got in. Anthea smiled in reply to his Hello and that was all. He was dropped at Mycroft's house with a key. As he let himself in his phone beeped with a message. "Will be late. My apologies. Wanted to cook tonight but will instead get some take-away. The drinks cabinet is opposite the white couch. Please help yourself."_

_So the mighty and perfect Mycroft Holmes did make mistakes and yes he did apologise, John smiled to himself. Not at all miffed on being made to wait. Instead he wandered in. This was his first time at Mycroft's place and he was curious._

Blech. SCRATCHED THAT and wrote some more details:

_Friday- Oct 2: The reason for the delay is that Sherlock has been missing. Mycroft’s select minions haven’t been able to trace him for more than 24 hours. Mycroft is frantic and channels all his resources in stealthily looking for him. Finally, they locate him in some prison from where Mycroft can’t spring him easily. Situation at a deadlock, Anthea pushes him to go home and reminds him of his date with John. Mycroft returns with a heavy heart, he’s berating himself for sending his brother there and reluctant to face John. Too tired to pull his usual mask._

_So John ends up at Mycroft’s place alone instead. With no one to tell him no, John ends up in the pantry/kitchen. Is pleasantly surprised that Mycroft planned to cook (not a Holmes but never clueless). Cooks a simple meal for the two of them, picks a book and a drink and waits for Mycroft. When Mycroft finally arrives, he is carrying boxes of food from his favourite Michelin star restaurant as a substitute. John simply asks him if that will keep? It will. So he puts the containers in the fridge, orders him to freshen up and come for dinner. He serves up two plates of his simple fare instead._

_I think they don’t do much talking initially. John senses that Mycroft ahs a hard day and is struggling to keep his mask on. So they still simply eat. Each with his own thoughts. John, acknowledging to himself that he needs to be needed. That he likes taking care of people and so if this aspect of the relationship continues he wouldn’t balk. He is at pains to distance himself and not soothe Mycroft._

_Mycroft surprised that someone cared enough to do something for him selflessly, realises that this is exactly why he loves John so much. He was gobsmacked with the domestic scene of John comfortable in Mycroft’s home. He cant help fantasising a little that John would want this again or maybe forever. But then he wonders if this is simply John seeking a substitute for Sherlock instead and not actually wanting to do this for him. He is a bit hurt and resents it and as a result is a bit more distant than usual when they finally make it to bed. John is surprised at this coolness but doesn’t show and proceeds as if everything’s normal. As they touch each other Mycroft realises that he has a childish urge to wipe Sherlock from John’s mind. If only for just this one night. He knows he wishes the Doctor would see him as simply him, not as a substitute, he knows he is being unreasonable and foolish, he also knows that he cannot stop wishing this. So he proceeds to do the next best thing that he can do. He pulls out all stops and does his best to drown himself in John Watson for the night and forget everything and everyone, including Sherlock’s predicament and himself._

_For the first time John feels Mycroft’s desperation in their interactions. The normally cool and contained man always controls himself in bed too. Yes he makes it very clear that he desires the physical side of things equally but that’s where it stops. Mycroft is forever seeing to John first, his needs, his desires, never letting go fully in bed. John thinks their first night together set a tone for that and they never broke that particular pattern. So when Mycroft indulges himself in John that night he is pleasantly surprised and lowers one more of his own barrier. He finally makes love with Mycroft that day giving his body the way he would have with Sherlock had he had a chance. He doesn’t think so consciously but rather realises that later. Taking care of him equally. Making himself a little vulnerable, taking turns, sensing what Mycroft needs and giving it to him. Not asking him for more than he can give but letting him know that not only can he ask for more from John, and yes it will be given, but also that its ok to give a bit of himself because finally that door has been left open, perhaps just a small creak but definitely open in invitation._

 

Overall I love putting Anthea in a nice snarky or a kickass scene. and some of my self comments went into author notes while some mercifully didn't. Heres a sample:

_I think that John has started healing. He is recovering his emotional equilibrium and that means that he can think of Sherlock and their time together without too much pain and sometimes even happily._

_Im assuming Mycroft is in one of the residences such as St. Edmund’s terrace. They are very London to me, rather nondescript, but rather fashionable and coveted among certain circles. Plus its just a walk across Regent’s Park to Baker Street (The one with the museum) and I don’t think that’s a coincidence._

_Change so as not to use care twice_

_Aargh!_

 

But at this point I got some really good comments from n_a which gelled with my head canon and so I jotted those to keep myself from straying. I don't know if I succeeded but I did end up with a HUMONGOUS author's note detailing it all. Around this time I also got inspired by lavengro who wrote two real cool chapters back to back of her Cat's Tail and I started writing with some vim and vigour again. Mercifully it has lasted all the way to end.

 

For [chapter 15](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/23331620) I wrote:  _Mycroft needed to get back into his role as the initiator so he was planning a few steps ahead. John on the other hand had enjoyed taking charge and being presumptuous with the obnoxiously controlled Mycroft Holmes and was riding the high and plotting on how to continue in the same vein._

We all know how that went for him hahaha 

I also crossed out the following text from the chapter: 

_Mycroft felt John’s confusion but couldn’t stopper the desire, jealousy, fraternal concern and indignation roiling within. He felt a childish urge to wipe Sherlock from John’s mind, if only for one night. Partly miffed by Sherlock’s headstrong ways that had gotten him into danger once again, partly torn by impotent jealousy. He wished the Doctor would see him as simply him, not as a substitute. He was being unreasonable and foolish, but the people closest to him seemed to bring out the worst of his emotions. He couldn’t stop wishing it. So he decided to do the next best thing in its stead. He would pull out all stops and seduce John Watson for the night. His cautious brain balked at it and warned him that he would once again end up drowning himself in John Watson for the night, while his conscience pricked him that he too was using John to forget everything and everyone, including Sherlock’s predicament and himself. ~~~~_

and also this:

_A shudder shiver escaped John, his eyes already pleading_

Ugh.

Then the inevitable happened. I wrote 

_They had never been coy with each other and it had been clear that they were equal in experience. So their encounters had always been heated. But today Mycroft_

And my writing totally dried up so i sent gem a plea

 _< <We need a take charge John here>>_ with the details-  _“Take me to bed.” John finally makes love with Mycroft that day giving his body the way he would have with Sherlock had he had a chance. He doesn’t think so consciously but rather realises that later, much much later._

Lol. 

The result was a mix of Gem and my writing.

The original had some decidedly dry phrases like: 

_Mycroft’s words swept caught John higher. Mycroft had never verbalised his needs. Their encounters were usually silent, save for the sounds their mutual touch elicited._

and 

_Tonight For the first time, Mycroft was asking and taking turns had asked for something specific. It made They had done a lot of things together but never penetrative sex. John was never sure if that had ben deliberate or not. But tonight, Mycroft was asking him for just a little more and letting John know feel that he too could ask for more in turn. because after a long time John wanted that extra bit. He felt that it was ok to give up a bit of himself because finally that door has been left open, just a small crack but definitely open in invitation._

_In return, John lowered one more of his own barrier. They had proven to be compatible in bed, but John now let his passion a bit loose, testing waters, letting his needs be more than mirroring his partner’s desire. He hoped Mycroft felt it. He wanted him to. Recalling his promise to be more himself . So_

Im just glad i do edit. Phew.

But I like the smut in this because finally John took charge!

The chapter was well worth all the heartache we put in it I think.

Possibly the last thing Gem could help me with. But what an awesome one.


	3. Chapter 3

[Chapter 16](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5670841/chapters/23505411) was ridiculous:

I wrote this first:

_John lay there, eyes open. His finger tips lovingly traced lazy circles on Mycroft’s shoulder. Mycroft’s breath against his chest was evening out and was almost a whisper now. He clutched him closer. It was strange, this feeling of having given away a piece of himself and feeling whole._

_The shifts in Mycroft’s moods through the evening had baffled him. The warmth in his eyes when he had arrived, the stress evident in his shoulders through dinner, the touch of wistfulness whenever John caught his eye, their companionable silence in the kitchen, the sudden chill as they undressed, the barely leashed passion when they first touched, the desperation in that, the slow thawing as John matched both passion and desperation and the near incoherent but blessedly fulfilling end. He knew that he had offered all of himself tonight simply because the door that he had seen opened but a crack now seemed a portal between them. And yetstill there was some tiny niggling detail that disallowed him to be fully sated. He knew it was pathetically stupid of him but he could not help thinking that he wanted more. Needed more._

_Mycroft felt sleep stealing over him. He had managed a peek into his phone and A had sent her code for nothing changed/ will let you know, et al. there wasn’t much he could do right now. He knew that the next few days could be terrible or much the same. There was something niggling, which he couldn’t quite grasp. But his mind resisted sleep even as his body grew languid. He felt sated but wasn’t sure that it was enough. He had decided to do more that day. He had wanted John to feel this. He felt as if he had failed or rather that he hadn’t been completely successful. Their intercourse had been more than satisfying._

_In all their time together, John had never met him toe to toe in bed. This was the first time that the man he had first met at the warehouse was the man in his bed. He knew it somehow. He wasn’t sure what had changed. He could make a few inferences but what good would that do. John had unwittingly found himself playing the role of host and caretaker in Mycroft’s own house and something had changed. Mycroft had not expected him to wait for him at all. Given that he had, Mycroft had thought that John would be waiting for him on the couch having a drink. The John Watson of the last few months would have done that. The few people that he had invited were either impressed or intimidated by his sitting room. The man he had met first, would have been neither. But he hadn’t been sure what the current John would make of the room. In either case he had been sure that (or rather he had been hoping that) John would like the rest of his house. There hadn’t been any time to show it off properly._

_With the exception of A, no one had been allowed beyond the sitting room. A of course had spent many a night (or day) here. Heck the third room to his mind had always been called A’s room. John seemed to have liked the kitchen. It was where he spent time experimenting with various foods and recipes, whenever his work permitted. Did John like his room? Mycroft was sure that John had hardly registered much beyond it having a comfortable bed and an en-suite bathroom._

_As Mycroft drifted into sleep he realised— once again, not once, not even in the very heat of it all, had John said his name._

Then I scratched all that and re wrote it as

_John lay with his eyes open. His finger tips traced lazy circles on Mycroft’s shoulder. Mycroft’s breath against his chest was evening out and was almost a whisper now. He clutched him closer. He wasn’t a man given to too much self-exploration. But the last couple of years had left him with no choice. He had tried shutting it all out after Sherlock. But, had found himself again and again searching for elusive answers. He had now fallen into a habit of looking at his own actions and hoping he wasn’t repeating his mistakes._

_When Mycroft had first come to him, John had wondered if he was being unfair to him. He wasn’t sure why Mycroft had accepted his overtures that first time. For quite a few weeks, John had felt rather guilty each time Mycroft had come over and they had fallen into bed together. True that neither of them had been coerced but he had always felt as if he were using Mycroft. Tonight had been the first time that he had felt like his own self. Tonight was also the first time when he had felt like Mycroft had gotten something out of thei sex (other than an orgasm)._

_It was strange, this feeling of having given away a piece of himself and feeling whole, he thought as he cradled Mycroft’s spent body. He was half draped on John’s body, face tucked in his shoulder, one hand wrapped around his torso the other curled above his head. One of John’s legs was trapped under Mycroft the other had been dragged by the man over his hips, twisting John’s body at a somewhat awkward angle. John knew he would have to move to get comfortable but he was reluctant to disturb Mycroft. He had seemed stressed earlier and he was finally resting. John waited for Mycroft to descend into deeper sleep. He trailed his fingers softly through Mycroft’s hair as he walked through the last few hours again._

_It had been a strange evening. John knew that he had subconsciously thought that Mycroft’s delay was at least partly the result of the clinical detachment they both had so far displayed towards their relationship. While he was generous in bed, Mycroft was after all a Holmes, and the John Watsons of this world always seemed to be waiting for them and upon them, had been his self-deprecating assumption. He knew he was being petty._

_His initial annoyance had been fuelled in part by what he was now calling- ‘that room’. It was cold and sterile and horrid. It didn’t belong with the lovely kitchen and dining room. It was a travesty in his opinion. How Mycroft could bear to step into it was beyond John. The room was just not Mycroft. Typical of John, he failed to wonder how he presumed that it wasn’t. The room wasn’t worth spending another moment over. He stopped himself and thought over the dinner instead._

_He had been only half surprised by the well-stocked fridge and pantry; after all, though the Holmes brothers were rather similar in their mental prowess, Sherlock showed his sibling rivalry by going the exact opposite way that Mycroft did. Cooking while he waited, had seemed a natural thing to do and he hadn’t spent a quiet evening reading ever since… well for a long time. He had actually enjoyed himself. Though the shifts in Mycroft’s moods through the evening had baffled him, the meal had been pleasant. The warmth in his eyes when he had arrived, the stress evident in his shoulders through dinner, the touch of wistfulness whenever John caught his eye, their companionable silence in the kitchen. Mycroft had been so open and sincere in his appreciation. It had seemed so … homely? John shied away from the word and sought a different one… friendly? …comfortable? None of the others fitted so he abandoned the thought and attempted to move to a more comfortable position. Mycroft made a snuffling sound in complain, and John smiled to himself, finally finding a better position._

_He wondered what had crept into their evening to produce the sudden chill as they undressed. Had it been some message on Mycroft’s phone? But he appreciated the barely leashed passion when they first touched, the desperation in that, the slow thawing as John matched both passion and urgency, and the near incoherent but blessedly fulfilling end. And yet there was some tiny detail that disallowed him to be fully sated. He knew it was pathetically stupid of him but he could not help thinking that he wanted more. Needed more. If only he knew what was missing. Suddenly he wondered if Mycroft felt the same._

_He wondered what matters hunkered in that brain of his? He hoped that whatever it was that had weighed Mycroft down earlier would be resolved soon. Would Mycroft ever confide in him? John didn’t need Mycroft divulging national security concerns to him. But it would be nice if he would let his anxiety show or simply say a word to indicate his stress. Unwittingly, a sigh escaped John. He knew it would never happen. They had started as they meant to go and it was no use trying to change the rules mid-way._

_Sometime during the night, they assumed the same position that they had fallen into since that very first night and had done each night they spent together._

 

Some of it did make its way to the final thing but oh the pain of this one.


	4. Chapter 4

Somewhere I wrote:

Other planned episodes – one meltdown by John- medicine related - **done**.

and maybe another Sherlock related.

One by Mycroft- work+Sherlock related. **done**

A domestic scene before it all goes to hell (evil grin) maybe Mycroft immerses (treats) himself in John Watsonian bliss just the day before Sherlock is going to come back.

 

Lol yes yes i give myself evil grins all the time.

 

Chapter 20:

_Sherlock is coming back, Moran has been found, they don’t know about AGRA, Sherlock is returning so Mycroft starts cutting ties. John is upset, cue n-3_

If you are curious then please know that n-3 referred to the chapters ALREADY WRITTEN. n being the last one. Yes that happened

_Which is why mythical purgatory_  

_Only A knows the truth and she thinks he must come clean to John. Not about Sherlock’s fall but about his own. Having her feelings reciprocated has perhaps blurred the memories reminding that people like them cannot form heart associations. Both of them have been betrayed and have betrayed more than enough to last an average human several lifetimes._

 

Chapter 22: 

_Sherlock has returned but is in a terribly bad shape due to his criminal hunting activities. John has spent the last month nursing him in a secluded and secure house. It is Mycroft's. During the month (since Sherlock's return) Mycroft has distanced himself physically from John. John assumes that this is the end of their relationship (his reasons elaborated in previous chapters)._

 

_There Sherlock is resting hooked to various tubes and medical paraphernalia. John is shocked and rushes over to Sherlock, crying out his name. Mycroft waits patiently for a time and then gently asks him to examine Sherlock thoroughly. John is confused but does so and realises that while Sherlock is indeed injured and in danger all his injuries are fairly new and seem to have been received under torture. He has no head injuries, nothing to indicate his fall. Mycroft removes a reluctant John to the annexed room and tells him what happened. From Moriarty’s threat to the recent abuse Sherlock’s body faced at the hands of his captors._

Somewhere I wrote this and scrapped it: 

_They stepped into the next room and John observed that the room looked like a lab converted to a hospital unit. There is a set of locked cupboards one of which is a glass cabinet with equipment, a sink with a tap in the middle of a wall._

 

Somewhere in the middle (and somewhat later) I also plotted this most of which NEVER happened:

_Sherlock heals and John leaves. Sherlock helps John. John is confused and angry at both of them. Sherlock understands. Mycroft thinks he is sacrificing himself for John and Sherlock’s happiness. Sherlock goes to meet John and apologises and John says he now understands and forgives. Sherlock asks him to return. John agrees. Sherlock asks and John says he has met A. Sherlock then tells him about her. John is surprised and yet not. Sherlock apologises about Mycroft. John says it wasn’t meant to be. John returns. They meet. Moran happens. They are all under Mycroft’s roof. Mycroft realises Sherlock and John never happened. Mycroft is still heartbroken that John didn’t ask to stay._

 

Now here on was a huge deviation again cos I was supposed to close it in the next two or three chapters.

Chapter 24: 

_Sherlock recovers and they are planning on announcing his ‘return’ to the public. The plan is for J &S to return to Baker St. Prior to the departure back to London, John has been busy packing and painfully removing his things from Mycroft's home. Things he brought in not only for this trip but also during his previous visits to Mycroft's home as his lover. They have dinner._

_Mycroft is wearing his usual formal clothes minus the jacket. John as the prev scene mentions has deliberately worn the jumper from Mycroft. His only gift to John. John’s unsure what will happen but he wants to reassure Mycroft that their time together mattered to him. He cant be clinical about breaking things off. He knows that he loves Mycroft but he never loved John back. But he hopes that there was a measure of affection there and believes that Mycroft will need this reassurance. He also thinks this open demonstration on his part will encourage Mycroft to at last say something so he can leave with a lighter heart._

_End game- John must realise that Mycroft loves him and that he was willing to let him go to find greater happiness with Sherlock. He will also realise that what he had with Mycroft was a greater balance and equality. Also an emotional stability that he hadn't felt in a very long time._

_Mycroft’s view of Sherlock is very different cos he has seen Sherlock from childhood. Headcanon- Sherlock was a headstrong child given to tantrums and laughter open affection. Only later when he started school and university did the changes in him start._

_They speak/ Mycroft breaks down just as he thinks he has lost John for good._

You see what happened there. None of that. Moran happened and John went away and all that drama. Honestly, does anyone else realise this could have been over and resolved in about half the number of chapters.

 

I did write something like this which obviously had to be scrapped:

_And Mycroft broke down, "I love you John. So much. I’ll tell you everyday, forever. You won’t ever have to ask again. I promise. I love you."_

_"And I love you Mycroft. Don't you know that? I have for a long time now."_

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as I said earlier the idea was that Sherlock returns and they are all at Mycroft's country house while he recuperates and so at first I thought thats where things will come to a head. And so I wrote this bit first. The two 'last chapters' follow this particular scene :) Enjoy the pure unadulterated melodrama.

## They return to Mycroft’s country home and Mycroft says goodbye and then crumples after John leaves

Here’s the beginning of the last scene (that I actually wrote first). Its pure drama.

Mycroft retires to the study. John goes and settles Sherlock back for the night. Then he returns to speak to Mycroft one last time. 

****

John stood at the door simply watching Mycroft. Mycroft sat at his desk seemingly reading a set of papers, which John knew he was merely staring blankly at. Yes, after all this time, John could easily know when Mycroft was actually reading or merely pretending to. Several moments passed before Mycroft noticed him and looked up. Then back at the papers again.

"All done then?"

"Yes." John nodded as he entered the room and stood behind a comfortable chair, facing the desk, but safely away from it. He had a momentary lapse in courage and wanted to keep his hands hidden behind, but Capt. Watson wasn't a coward, so he took up a casual stance and placed his hands casually on the high back of the chair. 'You can get through this', he told himself. Silently hoping to draw out his last time alone with Mycroft.

 _'Just a few more moments snatched from the jaws of time.'_ He thought. _'Something to hold on to for the rest of my life. You may not need me but I do. I've always needed you. I always will.’_

"I've made some financial provisions for the two of you to get by till Sherlock recovers fully and you both start taking private cases again and you can return to the hospital. Don't worry, it's money from his trust." Mycroft said looking at the papers the whole time.

John wished Mycroft would look up once. Look up, at him. _'Just look at me damn you! Do I mean nothing to you than your brother’s keeper? Were the two years of my life with you so barren of any connection that you don't feel even a twinge?'_

Aloud he simply said, "Thanks."

"Anthea will be here at eight, but you can start later if required." Mycroft continued still not looking up. "I've instructed her to give you a number for emergencies. She will be available 24/7. Please do not hesitate to do so _Dr. Watson_."

It was this last that broke John and he finally couldn't help himself, retorting sharply and somewhat bitterly, "Please don't worry that I'll call **you** , _Mr. Holmes_." Mycroft's head finally snapped up at that, but John had already turned away saying, "Good night." He steadily walked out, holding on to the tatters of his pride. He stepped out of the room and turned quickly behind the open door and slumped against the wall, softly exhaling the breath he had been holding in. His hand shook and he was sure that if he tried to stand up now the bloody godforsaken limp would return. He scrunched his eyes as he leaned against the wall trying to regain control over his body.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised this is one of the endings I had written way back.  
> No idea why these popped into my head before any of the rest.

## Alternate ending 1

“Stop it. Stop with the half truths. Just ...”

“Well what did you expect. It's what I do. I lie and twist facts and manipulate people.” 

“No. No you don't.”

“Really John?” 

“No you don't. You have to tell me.”

“Must I? Tell you what?”

“The truth.”

“Oh. Is it the truth we want John. Or should I continue this farce so that you can justify your anger at me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I may say a lot of things that are lies and half lies but you don't say anything at all do you?”

The vehemence on that cold face was staggering

“How dare you? Where do you get off telling me that when you literally pushed me out of your doors without asking me whether I wanted to leave? Without giving me a say in any of it? How dare you say that when you couldn't wait to get rid of me and repurpose me once again into your brother’s nurse?”

“I made sure you left to be with the man you love!”

“What the fuck do _you_ know about love?”

“I know enough to know that when you make love, when you are on the peak of ecstasy in the throes of passion then in fifteen months of making love you at least say the name of your loved one once...At least”

“...”

“I'm… my apologies, John. I overs... I’m sorry. You are not to blame.”

“No. No please. I want to hear it. Please tell me. Please. Please Mycroft. Please.”

“It was everything John. I know you've loved Sherlock for a long time. I have always known I'm a rather poor substitute. Don't mistake me I haven't ever envied him. I've always been proud of him. And I'm rather secure in my own skills and what I use them for. But I do know that you have deep and abiding feelings for my brother, which I shall never displace.”

.

.

.

.

“Do you truly care for me?”

“…”

John waited then. Hoping Mycroft would say something.

“Just this once please say something. _Tell_ me because you never said a fucking word—“

“When was I supposed to _tell_ you anything John. I was the man who exposed Sherlock to Moriarty. Betrayed my own brother, the man you loved. I was the one who couldn't prevent his public shaming. I was the one who helped him fake his own death and break your heart. I was the one who aided him in running around the world in extremely dangerous conditions dismantling a network that shouldn't have been allowed to take roots in the first place. I was the one who lied to you through all that time witnessing your grief and not uttering a hint of truth to assuage it. I was the man busy coveting and seducing my brother’s best friend and potential lover during all the time that my brother was putting his life on line to save said man’s life. So when would it have been fine to say anything?”

“Will you sit down please. Just give me a moment, ok. Just...”

“John you don't have to—

“No I have to. Just ... Please. I'm no good at this so just...”

Nods

Sits down abruptly holding his head, eyes covered, elbows on knees.

.

.

.

.

“John... There are other ways of saying it, John. I came to you first. I couldn't stay away. Even if I could have just... just have the physical... It wasn't a simple whim that first night. I'd been _wanting_ for a long time. A very long time. It hardly took me a few seconds into our kiss that evening to decide that I would take from you whatever I could get for however long I got. I refuse to apologise for that. I have always been ruthless and pragmatic. In as much we both used each other that time. And I came to you again and again. Each instance that I could. I didn't have more to say then and I don't have any more to say now.”

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You are right. I'm such a fucking idiot. I was so sure I knew what … that I never bothered to ask or to even listen. I'm so sorry.”

He looks up and takes Mycroft's hand in his and says, “I'm sorry I never told you. That I seemingly went to such pains to hide it. But I do care for you. A lot. I don't know why I never say your name. I truly don't. I don’t know if it is a habit or just something I do with you. I’ve never noticed. But I never meant to hurt you. Quite the opposite in fact. And, here’s the thing, I always thought that you knew. Cos there's not much that a John Watson can hide from a Holmes.” He gives a wry smile. “I always knew that Sherlock realised my infatuation with him. It was a huge mercy on his part that he never commented on it or was rude about it or took undue advantage. And so with you I did my best to keep it somewhat subdued. To not let it get … annoying? I guess I didn't know when to stop.” Mycroft noted the slip in John’s speech to present tense and a bit of hope bloomed.

John bit his lip and looked intently at him, “Shit. To think I accused you of keeping yourself shut away from me. You spoke more eloquently when we … when we were making love than I ever did.”

“And loudly too,” said Mycroft with mischief in his eyes and John laughed, the tension somewhat eased.

Then he turned serious again, “Can you ever forgive me? Please? Even if we go our ways now, … please let me finish. Even if… just try and forgive me ok. I do have feelings for you and am sorry I ever hurt you. I wish we had said, that I had said something earlier, when we still had a chance. I’m sorry. Yeah, I do care. A lot. Quite a bit actually. And I wish... I would have liked… I wanted us to… I mean I had hoped that this we, I mean…. Forgive me?”

Mycroft nods, “Can _you_ forgive me for making this decision on your behalf?”

John laughs again, “I will always be upset with you when you do that, you know…”

“Always?” There is a hopeful gleam in Mycroft’s eyes.

“Always.” John confirms returning the hope. “But in this instance, seeing that I was a bloody idiot...” He quirks his lips in that same self-deprecating smile that always leaves Mycroft helpless against the man.

With infinite care, as if the moment were a fragile reliquary, Mycroft Holmes gets down on his knees in front of the man he has loved for so long and with such little hope. John’s eyes widen as he looks down into his lover’s face.

“John, can we start again please? ~~Just give me your now and today please. Just that.~~ I promise hereafter to try and let you in and if you could see yourself doing the same then we can discuss and decide on each tomorrow together.”

John almost slides down the chair half in Mycroft’s lap as crushes Mycroft to himself. He is trembling as he holds him and chants _yes, yes, yes_ and _please_ , and _thank god_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another one which had an equal amount of drama  
> I eventually got bits and pieces from the two and cobbled together the final scene which is why to me it looks so patchy.

## Alternative ending 2 John reads out from his diary

Mycroft waited for John to leave the room. He had to make a clean break. It hurt. He wasn’t sure how he would survive without John. His John. No longer his. He scrabbled to get up from his seat. His usual grace deserting him in the face of desperation. He needed one final glimpse, one final touch, just one more, John. Please. He almost fell on the chair opposite. The chair where John’s hands had rested. His loving hands. His warmth. His caring touch. Had John’s body leaned against the back? He huddled into the seat. Caressing the top again and again. He imagined he could feel it all through the leather. He stroked it, there, that’s how John liked to be touched. He pressed his lips to it, reverently, feverishly, with all his longing. _John. John. John_.

John heard a faint sound, like a sob... _No, it couldn't be_. Quietly he ducked out from behind the door to peek inside.

Mycroft was huddled into the chair John had just been standing against. His shins resting on it, his body hunched and shaking, while his hands... His hands seemed to be caressing the exact spot where John's had rested. And even as John wavered in shock, absorbing the scene and processing what it meant, Mycroft raised his head to rest his mouth on that exact spot, kissing it reverently, then shifted to rub his forehead on it, then his eyes, his cheeks...

 _Oh God!_ John rushed in, and Mycroft barely had time to raise himself from the chair in alarm when he felt John's arms around himself.

And oh Lord, oh merciful Lord, John was holding him. Tight. As if he would never let him go, as if Mycroft belonged there, belonged with John. So he did what he had wanted to the whole evening, the whole week, the last twenty-six days. He wrapped his own arms around John trying to bring him as close as humanly possible, grasping and clinging. Face buried in the crook of John’s shoulder. Shuddering gasps wracking his frame.

They stood there for a long time, clasped tightly, till John asked a croaking, "Why?"

Mycroft scrambled to push back, "John! I'm... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

But John held on.

"Shut up! Just shut it Mycroft. And give me the fucking truth for once damn it.” He sounded so tired. Not angry. No. Just tired. John seemed to give him a shake even as he held on. “Why are you sending me away?"

Mycroft held him tighter and wished John would understand.

"John," Mycroft shook his head. He rallied a bit, regaining his voice, “Sherlock…He… He needs you, John.”

“And you don’t,” John said with a resigned sigh.

"I have to let you go. You don’t love me. I know you don't. I do wish … I had hoped… that you would… for me, just as I am. But you can't... you don't... so I... please John don’t make me say it."

John had never ever heard Mycroft so incoherent and at loss of words (outside of their love making, yes dammit, it was love making and he would prove it to the berk). He was sure now that as usual he had read it all wrong. But his anger was still strong.

“So you simply decided for me? Without asking me. Making me feel like a discard all over again.” Mycroft was shaking his head in denial but John continued to speak.

“Do you know what our months together have meant to me? Not just the sex. But the entire time?”

“How could I? You never once said?”

John exploded, “You can fucking deduce my bloody whole life down to seconds and not this? And it’s not as if you ever told me.” He stopped abruptly and breathed noisily he needed to stay calm. He couldn’t do this in anger. “Ok so you couldn’t know exactly how much I _needed_ you but could you not have seen how much I _wanted_ you? Did I make that unclear? What part of – me sharing as much time as possible with you, as much of my life as was possible, did you not get? Did we not fuck enough?”

Mycroft cringed at the deliberate crudeness but deflected calmly, “You love Sherlock. Always have. And now he is back.”

“And so you thought that I would simply throw you over and continue my life with him? Just how much of an arse do you think I am?”

Mycroft tightened his jaw, “No. I thought you’d want to be with him now but I didn’t … I don’t want you to be…”

“Mycroft! You are still telling me either that you thought that I’m a self-serving bastard who has been using you for the whole last year, or that I’m a fucking moron who doesn’t know what he wants. So which one is it do you **think**? Hm? What part of our arrangement even whispered temporary, Mycroft? Half my things are at your place. Each of your residences has my brand of toothpaste, shaving cream, soap and shampoo that _I bought and placed_ there. **Not you. Me**. I told Lestrade and Mike about us and haven’t hidden it from Mrs. Hudson. If everyone else doesn’t know its because I didn’t want to jeopardise your security by being the unguarded link. Not that I heard _you_ telling anyone.” He knew his voice had risen. Bloody buggering fuck. He clenched and unclenched his fist, trying to control his volume and temper. “When we started, when we first…” he gestured futilely between them, “I always knew I couldn’t have you forever. You are used to far more sophistication in bed and out than I ever want in my life. We move in different circles. I get it. I know that I am not… that this isn’t... If hadn’t shared a flat with Sherlock we would surely have never even met.”

He actually smiled then but to Mycroft it looked resigned and tired, and he thought— _Oh John, I can deduce a lot about you but not this. Truly I cannot._

“So, I always told myself that, whenever you wanted, I would break it off without a fuss. Perhaps lick my wounds for a bit. But I’d let you go. A Watson cannot hope for a Holmes. I was ready for that. It was ok to say no more and break it off. But what isn’t fine is this. You decided that _I_ should leave. You made it seem as if I want to leave. You also decided that … that I and Sherlock… So, you shoved me over to Sherlock as if I were a fucking used toy. Do you think me completely mindless and gormless? You cast me either as your brother’s fucking nanny or your bloody bed warmer. There seems to be nothing in between. And you also decided I couldn’t be both – together. Yes, I didn’t say anything. But you always fucking know everything. But you didn’t deduce this did you? Because in your bloody mind I am fit only for these roles.”

The quiet tired tones were worse than the raised voice. Mycroft cried out laying a restraining palm over John’s arm. “John! Please. No more. Please. I... Please John. Please.” He brought back the hand around John’s back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

But John extricated himself from Mycroft’s arms and pushed his trembling frame into the chair again. He needed to see Mycroft’s face for this. There were things that would fester if left unsaid and now was the only time he had. So he stood looking into Mycroft’s eyes and continued, “What exactly are you sorry for, Mycroft? Since I’m being punished tell me what _I_ did wrong? That I loved someone before? Yes, I loved Sherlock. I always will. He brought me back to life. Being with him was like witnessing a supernova, he is dazzling and yes, I love and care for him. But that was before. Even before he… He won’t ever need me that way and I had always realised that it isn’t enough. I need more. I…”

John trailed off, flustered by his emotion. He looked away, breathed in and continued softly, “The sacrifice he made for me weighs heavy on me. It kills me every damned time that I think of it. I look at him and I bleed. It hurts constantly. So much. I would rather have faced the bloody sniper’s bullet. But neither of you ever give me a choice do you? You pull me and push me in any direction you want. I’m a bloody puppet.”

“I… I told him. But…”

“I DON’T WANT TO KNOW ABOUT HIM!” John roared, whipping his head back. “It’s **you** I’m talking to. Its **us** I’m talking about. Give me **your** bloody reasons. What gave **you** the right to decide for **us**?”

“I don’t… I mean… I… John!” Mycroft looked on helplessly.

John closed his eyes as if the sight pained him.

A few moments passed.

Finally, and yes, Mycroft could see the firming resolve, he let out a sigh as he opened his eyes and said calmly, “I know I never said anything either, so let me... I never told you how much I care. But I do. So very much. Heck you have never been convenient. Far from it. I disliked you on sight and then I hated you, remember?” His tone has turned cajoling, “And then I grew to respect you. We would side together at times, allied. The hate dissolved a long time back. And then I was angry with you all over again. I was angry and needed to focus it on someone tangible. Moriarty wasn’t there. Sherlock had abandoned me and made me feel guilty and useless. But you were there and so I vented it out on you. I am sorry for that. You were grieving yourself. It wasn’t fair. I know now and I knew then that you would always protect Sherlock and yet I blamed you. I am so sorry. And when you brought me into the war room, you gave me a _cause_. I felt useful. And for a brief period I had a friend once more. And then we… We were _together_.” The wonder in his voice as he says that word had Mycroft swaying towards him. “I know I pushed that first evening and I’m sorry if that wasn’t what you wanted. I shouldn’t have pushed you. But, you came back and I thought you… maybe…” He shrugged helplessly. “I was numb for so long and so afraid to feel anything ever again. But it was ok with you. You comforted me and I felt it was mutual. I didn’t feel alone and you… It had been so long since someone took care of me. And the few times that I… you didn’t begrudge me caring for you either. Which was a novelty. I have never had that before. You actually thanked me for caring.”

Those words hurt so bad that Mycroft feels like pillorying all those who made his doctor, his soldier feel sorry for caring— _patients and their family, Harriet, even Sherlock had either truly resented or at least pretended to resent the doctor, the one making the prognosis, the sibling who hadn’t messed up, the friend who reminded him that his transport had needs._

“You gave me what I wanted. And allowed that I be myself in return. It felt good. It felt right. I thought that you let me in.” John laughed at that thought and looked away shaking his head, and then looked back, “What I felt with you was far more fulfilling and tenacious. After a fucking long time I felt _needed_.” His smile was so dry that Mycroft hated it.

“Pathetic really, isn’t it?” John looked away again, biting his lower lip, rubbing his palms on the front of his trousers, as he sorted through words and emotions. “You see I felt needed by _you_. Not just physically but also… perhaps…” He gave a self-deprecating smile and rubbed his forehead as he continued. “I haven’t always had that. And I… It was…” He put a fist to his lips clearing his throat. “It made me happy. Strangely, I felt your equal.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I hadn’t ever… You see it is a first for me. We have a balance. You and I. Had. We had. I felt equal to you. And… and needed.” He repeated. He walked back to the chair at the desk and turned it to face the room. Then he sat down on it and faced Mycroft. He looked up, the same smile lingering, and shrugged his shoulders as if to say _so that’s what it is._

Mycroft swallowed visibly. “I thought I was just a mere substitute.”

John groaned and hid his face in his hands.

Mycroft hurried to assure him. “You called Sherlock a supernova, John, and its true. I can’t dazzle. No one has ever chosen me over him. In your place, I wouldn’t. I have always known it and no I have never envied him this. I was seven when he was born and I … well I have always been proud of my attractive and intelligent brother who was loved by everyone at home and who was so demonstrably passionate and he showed everything so clearly even his love towards **me**. I, well… I’ve never been physically attractive. No please just let me finish. I… It’s not just that he is physically more attractive. We, Sherlock and I, are both intelligent, but I wouldn’t know how to _entertain_ you with it like he does. He is passionate and well I’m the _ice-man_. He involves you in every aspect of his work. I cannot. It will never be possible.” He searched those blue eyes for understanding and continued, “You have had your say John and I thank you. Much is clear now that I in my foolishness overlooked. So now let me reciprocate.”

For the first time in forever, John saw Mycroft steeling himself before he spoke. John realised that this was Mycroft being vulnerable. He was letting go of his habitual masks and was letting John see him and his emotions. These visible signs had been deliberately left for John. The man seemed to gather up all his courage. Then he took a deep breath, “I have wanted you for a very long time, John. I told you before that I have never envied Sherlock. But I confess, that first day in the warehouse I resented Sherlock for having garnered your loyalty without lifting a finger. The admiration and loyalty of a man like you… and even attraction. I couldn’t have the last but I envied him the other two.”

John huffed abashedly and perhaps a bit unbelievingly and Mycroft let a wistful smile slip through reflecting his first infatuation with the army doctor. “That is what makes you more attractive Three Continents Watson, your modesty in your own stellar qualities. You never undersell but in contrast to— lets say the arrogance I see around me including in the mirror, yes I do know myself, you are refreshing. You see sophistication in me and my life and I counter saying just one thing— opposites attract.”

John huffed again and shook his head in exasperation but now he was smiling. Mycroft let his own smile stay as he continued, “I have not strayed from the point, John. You must see now that you had me or could have had me from the word go. True that our paths may not have crossed save your meeting in the park with Dr. Stamford, but once they did cross, there was no way that I did not take note of you.”

Here he paused, seemingly having covered one of the points in his surely bulleted mental list. “Yes, you overwhelmed me that first evening after DI Lestrade was re-instated. And it is true that my overture had been meant solely as comfort. And here I shall answer those questions you asked of me. No, John. It was not easy for me, to see my brother’s reputation being destroyed by a criminal, blackmailed into letting go of his own life here in London. Forced into a dangerous exile. I was afraid for him, but, unlike you I knew he was alive. But I deserved it for betraying those I cared for. I had the evidence of my betrayal in two shapes— a brother who would perhaps not return home alive. And his dearest friend, alive but who would nevertheless have chosen death over such existence. And who would definitely never forgive my part in the deception. Don’t look like that John, you know you would have physically assaulted me after learning of it had we not had a change in our relationship. You would have done the same to Sherlock if he had not returned on a stretcher. You have hardly been able to speak properly to Dr Hooper even though your rational part tells you to forgive her. You know I’m right. So, no, it wasn’t easy. If it helps then know that Anthea tells me that I was impossible during that period.” He took another pause then.

“So when I could offer even a small measure of comfort I did.” His face became the usual mask and John realised that it was unconsciously done— sheer force of habit. “But you surprised me almost immediately. I left the following morning telling myself that it had been a one-off. Yet in less than 24 hours I was back. You tell me that you felt needed, John, and indeed you were. Both wanted and needed. And just as importantly, you made me feel the same. You allowed me to care for you, and not just sexually. If I got food or shopped or protected, you never resented it. You filled a void in me too.”

Mycroft was looking into the distance as he said, “Our first few encounters were heady for me almost intoxicating, and left me undeniably riddled with guilt later. Each time I planned to be with you, I would do my utmost to forget that I had not been your first choice, forget that I was lying to you, forget that if I would but open Sherlock’s eyes to your affection he may reciprocate and together you could… I told myself that Sherlock had never loved you, and that I could perhaps give you a measure of my affection for however long you permitted. Yes, John even I assumed that what we had was temporary. You could always meet someone far more interesting and warmer than me or when Sherlock returned you would…” John let out a choked sound. “Not callously John. Never. But, … Please.”

John just pursed his lips and nodded.

“I am sorry about distressing you. Truly. And what I am about to say may sound like a complaint but it isn’t. Truly. The time that we spent together was the most cherished of my adult life.” Trust a Holmes to be specific thought John wryly. “I could be unguarded in your company. I could be uninhibited in our sexual encounters the way I have perhaps never been. I had a companion who I could trust. I could demand things without being accosted for a payment in exchange. Someone who never demanded what I could not give. I too felt a sense of balance. Slowly but inexorably I felt us coming closer. I… I had started to hope. Do you recall the first time I asked you to my flat in London? I had planned an elaborate seduction.”

“I guessed as much,” smirked John.

“Well, yes, but I had not planned on disclosing the entire contents of my pantry and refrigerator to you, or to make you cook and clean in my instead,” Mycroft responded drily.

“The fridge was rather well stocked, and you have very posh cleaning supplies” John deadpanned.

“Hardly a surprise since I changed the menu thrice, each time setting Anthea’s team to order all ingredients at once,” informed Mycroft with a quirk of his lips. “I wanted you to see me as a potential partner, someone worthy of long-term commitment, who would take care of you as much as possible.” He shook his head in wry amusement. “Well we both know how well I executed my plans.”

“I liked it.”

“I know that, my dear. You would never. I can tell you now that…” He broke off obviously whatever he was about to say was far more difficult than even emotional confessions. “I had spent that day anxious for Sherlock’s well being. He had fallen off the radar so to speak.”

“Oh!” John isn’t sure how to respond. That part of him is still raw. “You should have cancelled.”

“No, John. That is not the point of this recollection. I had entirely forgotten about our dinner plans. I may or may not have told Anthea to cancel it. Truthfully, I don’t recall either ways. But once we had a bit of intelligence regarding his relative safety and whereabouts, she pushed me out. It was only then that I realised how utterly I had failed. I know you are thinking that I was being a rather nice elder brother et cetera et cetera.”

John raised an eyebrow in silent query.

“I was torn. Leaving the office seemed very much like abandoning Sherlock. Though my rationality convinced me that I was of no use there. But I needed some comfort too. I just… I came home with meagre hope that you had not abandoned it, but instead, I found myself welcomed with a cooked meal and a smile, a quiet comforting dinner and not a single word of complaint. Not even a frown. And once again my guilt deserted me, my concern for my brother while not relegated second easily moved to accommodate a measure of contentment. I wondered how I could have that forever.”

“And that is when your mood changed.”

Mycroft inhaled sharply, “You— ”

“Of course I knew, you idiot. One minute it was all warmth and quiet content, tired but comfortable. Next you were kissing me as if challenging me.”

“I apol— ”

“Spare me and move on.”

“I never meant for that first time to be anything more than a kiss. And even later I always thought it would be just one more time and then it would end. That you would end it. We both know John that when we first began you did think that when the time came we would make a clean break and you would move on. Tell me that it wasn’t a matter of when but if and that I wasn’t the only one who considered it temporary.”

“What? Ummm I have no idea what happened there but… initially I was totally numb and wasn’t sure. Or maybe for a very long time I was numb. But that was just… look I’m not… but later I thought I made it clear. I didn’t treat this as temporary.”

Mycroft was worrying his lower lip his eyes boring into John’s face with desperation and then he made a visible effort as he said quietly, “But you never even said my name.”

John was startled.

In a deliberate tone that struggled to keep the tone polite, emotionally neutral and non-demanding, Mycroft explained, “When we were _together_ and we had… mmmade… when we fucked, you never said my name. Not even once.”

John’s face crumpled at that. Bloody buggering hell. Had he really been so bad as that? Perhaps he had no right to this… this anger, this resentment, this sense of abandonment that he had been nursing for the last so many months. He actually had been just as emotionally distant for much longer. Christ! Mycroft had screamed his name so many times in ecstasy or rapture or a happy sigh. And he had the balls to accuse him… All this time he had felt justified and entitled… he had… He shut his eyes tight. Fuck!

“God! I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Oh God! How can you ever… I’m really sorry, Mycroft. Lord! I’m such a dick. Accusing you when I… Fuck, fuck fuck.” John opened his eyes, “No wonder you didn’t know. How would you? I… I need to tell you this now ok. Cos I’m rubbish at this stuff and possibly will be a berk all the time. But just let me say it ok. I wrote this some time back. When…” He scrolled through his phone found something which obviously he was a bit unsure of but then the soldier cleared his throat and rallied to read it aloud.

“Twenty six weeks back, I spent the night making love with a man who was way out of my league. Posh as royalty. Groomed and tailored as even women in my circles aren’t. He was not ice. Not with me. He hadn’t been ice with me in a very long time. He is passionate for his country, for his brother, his people. Just recalling his passion in our bed can make me hard and hot. Every time I am with him I have to make the extremely difficult decision all over again of fucking him in those posh clothes or peeling them away to gawk at him. If he is ice then he proves that ice can burn. But that’s not all. He listens to my stories with endless patience. He can’t speak about his work but has never once resented my work or my immersion in it. He is a bit of a show-off but not indiscreet. You must prove your worth before he chooses to dazzle you. But once he accepts your worth he warms you from within.” John kept flicking his eyes at Mycroft to gauge his reaction.

“And when we are in the bed… God! We didn’t just fuck that night. I made love. I have been making love to him for a long time now. I am no good at saying things so I tell him in bed instead. I touch him to tell him that I…” John firmly looked into Mycroft’s eyes and said, “I love him.”

Mycroft made a choked sound and John took his hands in one of his own and continued reading. “He never said it either. And I was fine with that, because his touch told me things too. It said that he saw _me_. He touched me as if I was important to him. His hands and lips told me I was attractive enough. His glances said I was… fuck that I was bloody hot.” John smiled ruefully. “He’s the most powerful man that I know, but in that bed we were equals. And that was more than enough. It was heady. It was so much more than I had ever hoped to ever have. Love doesn’t feel too unrequited when you know there’s at least mutual attraction and respect, you see.”

Mycroft was nodding vigorously agreeing with all that John said. John locked his phone and pocketed it.

“Perhaps I am just a coward and didn’t want to know that you liked me a great deal but didn’t love me, or maybe I didn’t want you to feel burdened that you were being unfair to me, so I never said it. I’m sorry that I didn’t. But yeah, now that I’ve said it, it’s not tough at all. I love you.”

John waited then. Hoping Mycroft would say something.

“Mycroft? You told me once that lying was the one part of your job that you did not bring into your personal life. So...Then… then could you tell me the truth, please? For me? Just this once? I will try not to ask it again, but I need the words today. I don’t... Please, for me."

"..."

"Mycroft?"

“I love you John.” 

***The End***

 

Be that as it may the beginning of the original Epilogue is so worth reading :D

 

## Epilogue

In the end, Sherlock and John did not move out of the manor for another three days. In other circumstances, John would have hated the smug smile constantly on Sherlock’s mug during those three days, but knowing what he now knew about the two brothers he didn’t react at all. (Except that first morning when he spent the entire breakfast red-faced). Otherwise he couldn’t care less who knew and who didn’t. He knew and so did Mycroft. Plus, being consistently and thoroughly shagged by one’s love did good things to a bloke’s mood, you know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so this is a bit of a rip-off from the Scarlet Pimpernel but the spirit of Baroness Orczy will definitely forgive me.  
> ‘Cos c’mon we all know that if only Lady Blakeney had turned around!


	8. Chapter 8

There was a time when part of my ToC looked like this because each had bits and pieces of my plot as its guideline:

Chapter 25Sherlock heals and John continues to hurt................................................................ 83

Chapter 26 Sherlock knows................................................................................................................................... 85

Chapter 27 Moran, Return to Baker St Trap for Moran.............................................................. 89

Chapter 28: John and Sherlock realise what just happened.................................................. 95

Chapter 29: John sees an ad and plans to leave................................................................................ 98

Chapter 30: Greg is angrier Mrs H explains........................................................................................ 102

Chapter 31: Anthea is angry............................................................................................................................. 105

Chapter 32: Sherlock visits John is angry but cannot hurt Sherlock even when Sherlock asks for it Sherlock apologises Sherlock’s reasons for helping John..................................................................................................................................................................... 107

Chapter 33: S understands better, asks why M came to his rescue............................. 111

Chapter 34: John returns and gets kidnapped refuses Mycroft...................................... 113

Ch 35: John has dinner with Sarah and meets Mycroft, they end up in bed....... 114

S to J about the night he spent with M................................................................................................................................................ 118

Chapter 36: Anthea (should we use this as a sketch instead)................................................................................................................................................... 121

Chapter 37: New scars and old- they fuck again............................................................................ 126

Chapter n-3 They return to Mycroft’s country home and Mycroft says goodbye and then crumples after John leaves ......................................................................................................................................................................... 138

Chapter n-2 Alternative ending 2 John reads out from his diary.................................................................... 141

Chapter n-1 Alternate ending 1...................................................................................................................................................... 144

Chapter n Epilogue................................................................................................................................................................................ 153

Six-months on a ‘reflectory’ and smutty scene for self-gratification to close this epic!        153

J to M ...................................................................................................................................................................................... 156


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is Sherlock's speech to John when he visits the latter. I had to trim it down quite a bit and even then what I put in the story finally, felt a tad bit OOC. But not as much cos SH does care a lot for JW.

When I was 'gone' I was worried about a handful of people. Those who had been threatened by Moriarty. Among them you first and foremost. Molly, my parents and Mycroft. The last three knew that I was alive. Yet it couldn't have been easy knowing I was in worse danger than usual. Since only Mycroft knew the true extent of it, it is probably true that he worried the most. Added to that was his guilt that he had been unable to prevent it and quite possibly had precipitated the situation. I'm still not sure how but despite everything my brother remains a human. 

John is sure that last bit was meant as the worst epithet Sherlock could hurl. 

I know how hard Mycroft can be on himself, John. He... You saved him. Much as you made me human once and continue to do so. He had shattered his faith in himself and you put it together, put him together perhaps. I won't beg on his behalf since he truly doesn't deserve you. But then according to me no one in this world is deserving of my John. And perhaps the situation between you would have deteriorated no matter what I did. Or whether I did manage to return. But I must apologise for my role in it. I'm sorry I broke your heart John. I had thought it a mere infatuation. I hadn't realised that someone normal could even like me leave alone love me. I'm sorry. I wouldn't have changed my plans but I would have ensured that you wouldn't blame yourself or witness it or...

I'm sorry.

And I'm sorry that upon my return I was such a jealous tit. No John just let me say it. You weren't there but rr I actually accused Mycroft of 'stealing' you. Rr. I as good as told him that he had no business toying with you simply because you had been vulnerable. So apologies not just for putting that stupid idea into his head that I wanted you instead but also for making you sound like a character in a third rate romantic drama. 

 

And lastly I needed to tell you this- I hope you come back John. I miss you. I miss my best and only friend. I really want you back. But, and This is important. But I also understand why you felt the need to put nearly a continent between Mycroft and you. I do and that's why I helped you leave and why I won't plead his case. 

 

For a long time John didn't say s word then he lunged fwd and hugged Sherlock fiercely. 

Thank you thanks so much Sherlock Thank you. 

 

I... if I do ever come back I'll let you know yeah. 

Of course John you will have the room upstairs always. 

 

They spent the rest of the two days discussing mutual friends: Molly's baby, Mrs H's hip replacement, Lestrade's new girlfriend, Mike's promotion.

 

Sherlock had spoken to John extensively about almost all his cases but now John dug up his notes and asked for clarifications. He showed him the drafts for his blog as well and Sherlock was delighted. He tried hard not to show it though and John laughed at him and teased him about it till he grudgingly acknowledged it. 

 

John kept plying him with food and nagging about sleep though (the jet lag should have long passed and John knew Sherlock could sleep whenever he wanted) and Sherlock soaked it all up almost beaming every time John scolded him. John couldn't decide whether to thump him or hug him and since that had always been the case he left it at that. 

 

 

 


End file.
